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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24434197">Walled Wolf</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ColetheWolf/pseuds/ColetheWolf'>ColetheWolf</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Smut Bomb: May 2020 [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Teen Wolf (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Begging, Beta!Scott, Breeding, Derek Gets Stuck In A Wall, Derek Hale Has a Fat Ass, Dubious Consent, Fingerfucking, Foursome - M/M/M/M, Hellhound!Parrish, M/M, Public Sex, Rimming, Skull Fucking, Spitroasting, Stranger Sex, Teasing, Threesome - M/M/M, Top!Stiles, alpha!Derek, beta!Stiles, bottom!Derek, stuck in wall, top!scott</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 08:26:58</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,772</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24434197</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ColetheWolf/pseuds/ColetheWolf</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek tries to chase a fugitive hellhound through a hole in a wall, but gets stuck. Instead of trying to help their alpha out of it, betas Stiles and Scott decide to take advantage of the situation.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Derek Hale/Jordan Parrish, Derek Hale/Jordan Parrish/Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale/Scott McCall, Derek Hale/Scott McCall/Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Smut Bomb: May 2020 [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1764541</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>319</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Walled Wolf</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I tried to make this one a bit more humorous considering the trope. I still think that it's equal parts hot, equal parts funny. Hope you like it! Enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Derek sprinted through the woods in hot pursuit of a rogue hellhound. His eyes flared bright with furious red. His mouth snapped and snarled. The heavy stomp of his boots echoed through the surrounding woods. But he remained entirely focused and determined to catch the criminal hellhound. As the resident alpha werewolf of Beacon Hills, it was both his and his pack’s duty to keep the city safe. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles and Scott kept hot on the heels of Derek’s determined run. They were two of Derek’s betas, his first-turned. And when the two of them weren’t busy lusting over their alpha, they were acting as the Hale pack’s lieutenants—Derek’s right and left hand reinforcements that helped keep pack cohesion. It was tough work, but it was fun and invigorating. There were very few things to do in Beacon Hills that rivaled the amount of fun that came from chasing down “bad guys”. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The fiery glow of the fugitive drew dim as it extended the distance between itself and Derek’s chase. But Derek didn’t stop. He pushed forward and made sure that his betas followed his lead. They breezed through the sticky springtime air, leapt over large rocks, stumps, and mossy clumps, and skillfully maneuvered around tree trunks—and yet, the hellhound quickly disappeared from sight. The only thing left to follow were the footprints burned into the woodland’s ground. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eventually, Derek and his betas came to a screeching halt— just narrowly avoiding a collision with their newest obstacle. There was a large stone wall positioned in front of them—standing a good 12 feet tall and stretching on either side for what seemed like miles. It was the city limit. The barrier that kept all of Beacon Hills’ supernatural craziness separated from the rest of the country. But there was a circular hole punched out of the wall, about the same size of a car tire, with handprints singed into the surrounding stone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Through here.” Derek barked out. He craned down to squeeze through the hole, but Scott reached down and grabbed onto his shoulders—pulling him back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s beyond our jurisdiction.” Scott said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah—and even if we managed to fit through that hole, he’s probably long gone by now.” Stiles noted.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek huffed. “We’re not letting some hellhound run amok outside of Beacon Hills. Wall or no wall, I’m climbing through.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek craned downward again and slipped his upper half through the hole without issue. He managed to push his head, arms, and upper torso completely through before hitting a snag. An actual snag. He wiggled his body around and kicked at the ground, but nothing seemed to work. He was stuck and lodged halfway in the stone wall. His upper half was successfully over Beacon Hills’ city limit. All the while, his bottom half was stuck—kicking around wildly in the faces of his betas. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fucking—</span>
  <em>
    <span>shit</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” Derek grunted frustratedly. He wormed around—arms flailing around in an attempt to grab onto something for leverage. But he couldn’t grab onto anything other than blades of grass and woodland air. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh—are you actually stuck?” Stiles snorted. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What the fuck do you think?” Derek growled. His legs gave an exacerbated kick. “Get me the fuck out of this. Grab my legs—fucking pull.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles and Scott grabbed onto either of Derek’s legs and pulled as hard as they could without causing serious injury—but nothing happened. Derek remained right where he was lodged in the middle of the stone wall. The two betas pulled again and again with the same results as before. Derek was stuck. And if werewolf strength couldn’t pull him free—what chance did he really have of getting out on his own?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think he’s really stuck. Like—really, </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> stuck.” Scott said, turning to look over to where Stiles was standing at his side. But where there should have been worry laced in the sound of his voice, there was excitement. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hmm—yeah, I don’t think he’s getting out of there.” Stiles clicked his tongue, sounding fakely disappointed. He reached down and apathetically pulled at one of Derek’s legs. “You’re kinda stuck there for now, buddy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Knock it off with the </span>
  <em>
    <span>tone</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Stiles.” Derek growled. “I am your alpha. Try something else.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles shot Scott a knowing smirk and then looked down to where Derek’s bottom half was hanging out of the circular hole in the stone. Derek’s ass was fat as fuck. Everybody knew it. Even the villains that the Hale pack faced in their day-to-day life. What a blessing it was to be beta to the hottest alpha werewolf in the entirety of Northern California. Even pack meetings were Hell when it came to paying attention, because all anybody wanted to pay attention to was the way Derek’s ass bounced around in his jeans. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But now—a chance presented itself. Derek was all but helpless, stuck in the middle of a wall. It was such a stupid perdicament for an alpha to get caught up in. But it gave both Stiles and Scott the chance to try out the goods. The goods being Derek’s beautiful ass, of course. And sure, the two of them were well aware of the possibility that they’d end up kicked out of the pack or somewhere buried under the cold ground with their throats ripped out as punishment—just as soon as Derek managed to break free. And yet, the risk felt worth it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wanna do the honors, Scotty?” Stiles laughed, kicking lightly at where Derek’s ass was hiked up in the air—sticking out from the wall. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Scott crouched down to the ground and sized up Derek’s backside. He clapped his hands onto both of Derek’s cheeks, rubbing and squeezing at the juicy muscle that remained hidden underneath the tightness of Derek’s denim jeans. Scott could feel Derek’s body heat so intensely, spreading out on where his palms were firmly planted against Derek’s curves. His fingertips eagerly dug into the meat of Derek’s body. And all Derek did was attempt to wiggle himself free. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on, Derek—we’re adapting to the situation.” Stiles chimed brightly. “That’s one of the things you taught us how to do in Werewolf Training 101. Never take a good opportunity for granted.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And how in the hell is this a ‘good opportunity’?” Derek asked, kicking slightly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Man—you really don’t know, huh?” Stiles snorted, slapping down against Derek’s ass cheeks, watching the globes of muscle wobble. “Think about it for a moment, Derek. You’re bent over and completely at our mercy. And if you listen real closely, I think that fat ass of yours is calling our names.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Scott gripped tight into the waistband of Derek’s jeans and slowly pulled them down. They watched with bated breath as the denim peeled its way over the sinful curve of Derek’s beautifully tanned and hairy ass cheeks— catching the sight of what Derek was wearing underneath his pants. No boxers— a thong. A tiny black thong made of the thinnest, most pathetic fabric either of the two betas had ever seen. And the majority of it was swallowed up into the bouncy globes of Derek’s ass. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles exhaled in delight. “Damn—what a fucking slut.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A thong?” Scott laughed, biting at his lip. He felt his own cock throb hard in the confines of his own jeans. “What are you wearing this for?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you have somebody special you’re seeing behind your pack’s back? Do they prefer you wear something like this. Or are you just that much of a fucking whore—you wear it because you like it.” Stiles interrogated. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I swear—I’m going to rip both of your heads off when I get out of this.” Derek snarled, snapping his fanged teeth together. “I hope you enjoy the taste of grass, because I’m gonna have the rest of the pack use your fucking heads as fucking soccer balls.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles knelt down next to where Scott was already knelt down. The two of them marveled at Derek’s fat ass and grabbed at it—feeling the soft muscle squeeze and bounce under their not-so-innocent touch. They smacked at it, rubbed it, and pushed the cheeks together for no reason other than to entertain themselves and get off to the helplessness of their own alpha. Perhaps ending up as a human soccer ball would be worth it in the end. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Scott gripped into both of Derek’s cheeks and spread them apart, drooling messily as the tight pink puckered entrance of Derek’s virgin hole came into view—completely visible for all to see as the thin string of the thong did nothing to hide the poor alpha’s modesty. Werewolves were always tight. They were practically always virgins all thanks to the enhanced werewolf healing factor that came along with the bite. But Derek looked tight—tighter than tight. Never touched, never fingered, never breached. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Holy fucking shit.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Stiles breathed, fingering away at the thong’s backing. “Have you ever even bothered to play around back here, Derek?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles dragged one of his thumbs across Derek’s untouched hole—breezing across the sensitive skin. He felt Derek’s entire body shake in response. Stiles could barely contain his excitement. He was rock hard in his pants, same as Scott, and couldn’t fucking wait to slip his fat dick inside of Derek’s hole. What would Derek sound like? How would he take it? Would he like it? Would he crave more of it even after it was over? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Scott kept Derek’s tanned cheeks spread and spat down to where Stiles’ thumb was rubbing away at where Derek was just begging to get hammered into. The two betas watched as Scott’s spit oozed down Derek’s crack—slowly, gleaming in the bright sun that hung overhead. They watched as Derek’s hole involuntarily clenched and fluttered and before either of them could even say anything, Stiles slipped his index finger into Derek’s heat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek grunted and kicked around wildly, trying his best to escape from where he was firmly stuck inside of the stone wall. He growled and swore and snapped his teeth together in a manner that was supposed to elicit fear from his subordinates— his betas. And yet, it didn’t seem to work. It only seemed to egg both Stiles and Scott on in their attempt to defile him. And even as Derek tried to clench and stop the lewd intrusion, he felt his body respond in a way that conflicted with the situation. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Scott! Get the— fuck outta—” Derek snapped. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles laughed, making a sound like a game show’s ‘wrong answer’ buzzer. “Ah, try again. It ain’t Scotty playing around back here. At least, not yet.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Derek likes pack-time quizzes.” Scott noted. “Let’s give him one.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles and Scott traded a humorous look—their eyes bright with glee. At once, Stiles withdrew his index finger and watched as Derek’s tight hole fluttered, clearly desperate for something else to get shoved inside. Scott squeezed into the meat of Derek’s hairy cheeks and gave them a playful wobble, just enough to make Derek kick around again. But then it was time to play the game—or rather, give Derek the chance to ace a quiz.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Listen up, Derek!” Stiles spoke boldly. “The first question of your pop quiz—whose finger is inside of you right now?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Scott speared his index finger into Derek’s tightness, feeling the man’s heat swallow him in without issue. As Stiles clicked his tongue in a sing-song kind of countdown tune, Scott thrust his finger around inside of Derek. In and out. Faster and faster. He craned his finger around and rubbed around, pressing hard into where Derek’s prostate was so clearly located. Derek’s whole body shook and vibrated as he did it. And when Stiles’ ‘countdown’ was over, Scott pulled out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Welp! Time to give us your answer, Derek.” Stiles laughed. “If you get it right, we’ll finger you some more. If you get it wrong, we’re gonna leave you here for the rest of the day. Maybe you’ll get lucky and some passersby will give you some much needed fun.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek didn’t answer at first. Instead, he tried again to wiggle free though found himself just as unsuccessful as the times before. He didn’t know what the fuck he was supposed to do. His mind was so torn. He didn’t want to give into Stiles and Scott’s pathetic little game. But at the same time, Derek’s whole body was on fucking fire. He needed something—someone. He needed to be touched. He needed something inside of him again. Anything. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What was that?” Stiles asked sarcastically. “I didn’t hear what you said. Come on, Derek. Speak up. Enunciate. Let the rest of the class hear your answer. Whose finger was that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek grumbled something underneath his voice, but it wasn’t audible enough for anybody to hear. Not even werewolves with enhanced werewolf hearing. Stiles and Scott weren’t surprised. Stubbornness was practically intertwined with Derek’s genetic DNA, just as much as his great metabolism and permanently scowled eyebrows. All he needed to do was speak up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Scott slapped down hard at one of Derek’s ass cheeks—watching the tanned skin briefly redden before fading away. “Tick-tock, Derek. You don’t wanna get marked down, do you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Scott.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Derek grumbled, still under his breath, but loud enough for people to hear. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ding-ding-ding!” Stiles shouted enthusiastically. “Looks like we get to move onto the second question, Derek.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This time, Stiles pressed his index and middle fingers into Derek’s heat, keeping things unbearingly slow. He drew so much pleasure from watching the way Derek’s tightness stretched around his fingers and took him in without resistance. So hungry. So fucking desperate for it. His body was practically screaming for more. And despite what people thought—Stiles wasn’t cruel. He liked to tease, but he liked to impress. And he liked to play.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuckingshit.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Derek grit through his teeth, unable to stop his hips from hiking up higher into the air, desperate to feel the fingers pressing into his hole even deeper. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek had never been fingered by somebody else before, especially not members of his own pack. And yet, he was almost certain that Stiles’ fingers were the second round’s quiz. Stiles had long and impressive fingers that usually flailed around when the boy talked about something that he really liked. And Derek felt them— he knew. There was no way that he was wrong. The fingers pressing in and out of his hole went deeper than Scott’s fingers from before. Stiles’ fingers were fucking insane. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Round’s up.” Scott said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah—” Stiles said, withdrawing his couple of fingers. “Do you need a moment to think or have you figured it out already—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stiles.” Derek shouted. Not in anger. In certainty. “It’s you. It’s your fingers. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Stiles….</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles exhaled. “Are we sure he’s not cheating? He’s too good at this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not fucking cheating, bitch.” Derek snarled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ooh, he’s so fucking testy.” Stiles said with a fake air of shock to his voice, looking over to where Scott was still knelt down beside him. “Well, what do you think we should do now that there’s a possibility he’s cheating the game?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I told you I’m not fucking cheating on your stupid fucking quiz!” Derek yelled. “Get me the fuck out of this—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At once, Stiles pulled the backing of Derek’s black thong to the side and planted his face down in-between the tanned globes of Derek’s fuckable ass. He immediately speared his wicked tongue into Derek’s heat and began to eat the alpha out with hungry enthusiasm. And to the delight of both Stiles and Scott’s ears, they drank in the sound of Derek screaming out a moan that he was unable to keep trapped inside of his body. It was a natural response—one that he couldn’t fight. And it made Stiles and Scott’s body tingle. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Question three—” Stiles pulled away from Derek’s hole for a moment of breath but then almost immediately dove back down to get more of Derek’s blissful taste. He lashed his tongue around with powerful precision and swirled it around, lapping everywhere, feeling Derek shake. “—which one—of us— is—eating you out?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dude, he can totally tell who’s the one rimming him.” Scott scoffed, bumping Stiles out of the way. “You have to be less obvious about it, dude.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Scott spat down onto where Derek’s hole was already dripping with Stiles’ mess. And then without even bothering to wait around for Stiles to protest the hijacked rimjob, Scott craned straight down into Derek’s heat. He gave a rougher and speedier rimjob, swiping his tongue around in all of the right places. All sorts of noises spilled out of Scott’s mouth as he worked and worked, driving Derek into a realm of pure pleasured madness.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a good five minutes, Derek’s whole body gave a nasty jolt and his legs quivered uncontrollably. Scott pulled back— chin dripping with saliva. The two betas watched as Derek’s whole body writhed and jerked around, whilst Derek moaned and groaned all kinds of swears. And underneath where Derek’s bottom half was stuck inside of the stone, Derek’s cock spit out harsh pulses of cum—right through the front pouch of his black thong. It went on for a solid minute—more and more cum, until Derek started panting out in breathless huffs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck—he already came.” Scott breathed, laughing slightly. He wiped his messy face on the sleeve of his shirt. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is that supposed to mean something?” Stiles asked, standing up from where he had been knelt down. He undid the front of his jeans and pulled out his thick cock, giving it a simple wave in the air. “He’ll do it again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why the fuck do you get to fuck his ass first?” Scott argued, jutting up to stand. He faced Stiles, crossing his arms. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh—did you not just make him cum on your tongue?” Stiles asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, but this is different.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, it’s not.” Stiles said. “Plus, I’m his first-turned.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So? I’m older than you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So? I’m Derek’s favorite.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No you’re not, bitch.” Scott shoved at Stiles’ chest. “I literally just did all of his laundry a couple nights ago when I slept over at his place.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t—cause he doesn’t make his favorites do his dirty laundry.” Stiles laughed. “I think he’s got you whipped, Scotty.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not fucking whipped—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I DON’T CARE WHICH ONE OF YOU GOES FIRST!” Derek growled loudly, rattling the surrounding air with the power of his voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles clicked his tongue and then stepped behind where Derek remained unable to free himself from the wall’s grip. He situated himself perfectly behind Derek’s ass—practically drooling over the tanned globes of muscle that needed to get slammed into. Derek looked like such a slut or a daily basis and now he was really pushing it. Stiles snickered to himself as he wrapped his long fingers around the base of his cock, stepping closer into Derek’s bound form, slowly pushing the head of his dick in-between Derek’s cheeks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek’s body purred. Stiles could feel it. He slipped the head of his dick around where Derek was already wet and sloppy from the rimming—watching as his precum added to the mess. And when Derek was least expecting it, Stiles pushed Derek’s thong out of the way and eased his massive length into the alpha’s hungry hole. Derek took him in so well, so eagerly. It was as if the man’s body was made to be fucked open with cock.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles gave an obnoxious hoot and pumped his fist into the air—watching as Scott devolved into stupid laughter. Neither of the two could see Derek’s face since his less interesting half was stuck on the other side of the wall, but both Stiles and Scott were almost certain that Derek was rolling his eyes in frustration at the hooligan antics of his betas. They didn’t care, though. Fucking Derek was too much of an acheivement to not celebrate with frat boy-level bafoonery. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was nothing careful or leisurely about Stiles’ thrusts. The very moment that the head of his leaking cock slipped inside of Derek’s cockslut warmth, Stiles tossed all caution to the wind. He didn’t care. Derek was his alpha. And alphas were tough. They were designed to be unbreakable. It was in their nature and Stiles did the best that he could to take full advantage of that theory. The amount of barked out moans from the other side of the wall seemed to be in agreement of Stiles’ thinking. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles rammed his cock into Derek’s body so hard and so fast that the force of his hips striking against the backside of Derek’s fat ass made the branches of the surrounding trees shake and spill their pine needles. The force was tremendous, but Stiles kept at it. His hips were like lightning strikes—crashing hard into Derek’s needy guts. Stiles couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sight of his own massive rod spearing into Derek’s tightness. Derek took him so well. His heat swallowed every thick inch without complaint. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Damn, you take dick so fucking nicely.” Stiles groaned, gripping his hands into Derek’s hips. He continued to pound into Derke, watching the way the alpha’s fat ass cheeks bounced and wobbled like jelly. “Do all alphas like taking cock up their fat asses or is that just you, Derek?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck — you</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” Derek grit out. His voice was low and snarled, but caught between heavy pants of breath. And pheromones didn’t lie. Stiles could smell the arousal dripping off of Derek’s sweat-slicked skin. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How about you moan a little for me.” Stiles cooed, hurling down a harsh slap against the insane wobble of Derek’s fat ass. “Moan for your beta, Derek—come on, don’t be shy now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles punched harder into Derek’s restricted form, driving his throbbing shaft into Derek at changing angles—prompting all kinds of sounds to slip out of Derek’s mouth. Stiles laughed and did it even more. But Stiles wanted it harder, so he mixed in a bit of his werewolf strength, rocking into Derek’s ass. It was so brutal that the stone wall Derek was stuck in creaked and rattled. Dust sprayed off of the old stone and tiny pieces of rock chipped off from the rough movement. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“FUCK!” Stiles hollered. He wrapped his fist around the base of his cock, squeezing tight, and then pulled out of Derek’s hot tightness. He didn’t want to cum—not yet. “Scotty—fuck his lights out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Scott playfully punched at Stiles’ shoulder as he traded places with the fellow beta, tugging down his own jeans so that he could grab at his own throbbing erection. Scott fixed himself behind where Stiles had stood and had fucked the hell out of their alpha’s fat ass. The evidence was noticeable, too. Stiles was thick and brutal and Derek’s tight hole was all flushed pink from the abuse—dribbling out all of the precum that Stiles had managed to leak inside of him. Scott watched as Derek’s hole fluttered and clenched around empty air, waiting for somebody else to slip inside. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a firm and commanding grip, Scott wrapped his hand around his hardened cock and gave it a few hefty strokes. He was only an inch smaller than Stiles’ massive nine inches, but a whole hell of a lot thicker. The weight of his beautiful brown cock meant punishment and pleasure for anybody that was lucky enough to get pounded by it. His dick curved slightly to the right and refused to stop leaking precum. The smell of Derek’s arousal cut into Scott like venom and worked over his body in the best of ways. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Scott landed both of his hands down onto either of Derek’s fat cheeks and gave them a squeeze, gripping so hard into the meaty flesh that he thought his fingers would leave bruises. But Derek was a werewolf. He’d heal. No bruises, just memories. Scott spread open Derek’s ass and smirked down to where the alpha’s hole had tightened back up to full virginity. And as Scott held Derek open, he pushed his hips forward— watching the battering ram of his heavy cock haphazardly knock around against Derek’s puckered entrance before slipping inside. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek cried out and tried his best to surge his ass backwards into the newest insertion, but he was still locked up in the stone wall. The only thing that he could do was brace himself the best that he could. And he did— thankfully. Because not more than a handful of seconds after slipping inside, Scott took a page out of Stiles’ thrust-game playbook. Scott pounded away just as hard and just as quickly, starving to feel his alpha’s wet heat swallow the girth of his beer can cock without fail. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Holy shit</span>
  </em>
  <span>—he’s tight as fuck.” Scott breathed loudly in amazement. He looked over to where Stiles was standing at his side, stroking himself to the sight of Scott’s cock pounding into Derek’s ass. “God—he’s taking everything. All of it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s a fucking pro at it, Scott.” Stiles said. “Fuck him harder. Let’s see how much he can take before he needs a break.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Scott chirped out a resounding ‘fuck yeah’ and then slammed his pitched his hips forward as hard as he could. He watched the stone wall shake under the strength of his movement and listened as a wheezed exhale of surprise was thoroughly blasted out of Derek’s lungs on the other side of the wall. But he didn’t stop. Scott’s hips snapped violently, see-sawing back and forth without drawing tired. The smacking sound of his meaty thighs and balls smacking forward into Derek’s backside played through the air like music. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on, Scotty! Fuck yeah, Scotty! Fuck that bitch—pound him—give his guts something to remember.” Stiles cheered crudely, stroking himself to the visual. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Scott bulldozed onward for a solid ten minutes as Stiles continued to jerk himself off and act as cheerleader to the whole ordeal. Derek sounded like he was barely hanging onto consciousness, drooling out babbled nonsense and pleasured sobs. And then Scott roared out—throwing his head back, eyes burning bright yellow. His fangs lengthed and his claws poked out, pressing into the skin of Derek’s waist. And with a few finishing thrusts, Scott rooted himself deep inside Derek’s hole, feeling his cock blow massive shots of cum into the restrained alpha. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles refused to look away from where his best buddy’s beta cock was firmly stuffed inside of Derek’s fat ass, pumping away and pulsating what he imagined to be soaking pumps of hot cum. And then, not more than a few moments later, Stiles watched as the magnitude of Scott’s load sputtered out around where he was plunged into Derek, spilling out down the backs of Derek’s thighs in a huge, creamy mess of spilled seed. Scott groaned and Stiles swore that his ears perked up to the sound of Derek groaning out on the other side of the wall. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck—now it’s my turn!” Stiles shouted enthusiastically. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles eagerly grabbed onto Scott’s shoulders and tugged the spent beta backwards, pulling him away from where he had been positioned behind where Derek remained stuck in the middle of the wall. Stiles watched as Scott’s semi-hard cock slopped out of Derek’s messy hole and swung around, hosing down a feeble stream of cum. But Stiles’ attention was immediately pulled back to where Derek’s hole was messy and all cummed up. All of the spent cum that Scott had pumped into Derek tried to pour out, but Stiles put a stop to it—quickly plunging his dick into Derek’s used hole to plug it up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sound of Stiles’ hot cock hammering into Derek’s slicked hole sent shivers of pleasure down Stiles’ spine. As his hips worked tirelessly, Stiles repeatedly slapped down onto each of Derek’s ass cheeks— forcing the tanned muscle to wobble even more than they already were. And each time that he gave Derek a good slap, Stiles barked out rogue, half-slurred exclamations. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Yeah. Take that. Ride that. Good, slut. Fuck yeah.</span>
  </em>
  <span> It felt good—and so fucking hot—to give Derek some demands and praises. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stiles - please - </span>
  <em>
    <span>fu</span>
  </em>
  <span> - </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span> - harder.” Derek moaned loudly, thighs trembling under Stiles’ rhythm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ooh, looks like we got out big bad alpha finally talking, Scotty.” Stiles laughed, looking over to where Scott was standing—drenched in sweat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Derek—!” Scott yelled out towards the stone wall, cupping his hands around his mouth. “Why don’t you tell Stiles what you want again. I don’t think he fully heard you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Fu</span>
  </em>
  <span>— fuck me - fuck my ass - fuck me - </span>
  <em>
    <span>har</span>
  </em>
  <span>— </span>
  <em>
    <span>harder</span>
  </em>
  <span>— fuck my ass harummmpfh—” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The brutal sound of Derek’s voice getting cut off suddenly fired off through the surrounding wooded area—ringing brightly in both Stiles and Scott’s sensitive ears. Neither of them knew what the hell happened. Derek stopped speaking, but his pleas for more were immediately replaced by loud and severely muffled screams, shouts, and gags. It sounded as though Derek was choking or getting cotton balls stuffed down his throat. And although it was cause for slight concern, it wasn’t enough to stop Stiles from continuing to pound into Derek’s ass. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The undeniable scent of char, ash, and smoke pricked at Stiles and Scott’s enhanced sense of smell. It smelled like there was a campfire burning on the other side of the wall, but there was no way in hell that somebody had decided to set up camp directly in front of a fucked out alpha werewolf. So, Stiles turned his hearing and immediately picked up on the fact that there was now another heartbeat on the other side of the stone wall, standing next to Derek. There were more sounds of choking, muffled shouts, and gags, but also the sound of sparking embers, chipping away at crunchy leaves on the ground. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Scotty— dude, hop up there and see what Derek’s doing on the other side of the wall.” Stiles hissed gleefully, grinding his hips into Derek’s fat ass cheeks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Scott leapt up and grabbed onto the top of the wall, hoisting himself up just enough so that he could peer over the top and back down to where the upper half of Derek’s torso was stuck through the stone. Much to his surprise, he found a sight most unexpected. Standing there with his hands clasped down onto both sides of Derek’s face—his massive cock stuffed down the entirety of Derek’s throat—was the Hellhound that Derek had tried chasing through the hole in the wall. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Holy shit, dude—you’re not going to fucking believe this.” Scott laughed, hanging onto the top of the wall. He peered back down to where Stiles was still hammering into Derek’s backside. “It’s the Hellhound we were chasing. He’s half-shifted. Some hot blond jock with flames sparking out of his sooty skin and he’s skullfucking the fuck out of Derek’s face.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fucking hot.” Stiles chuckled, gripping into the sides of Derek’s waist. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Scott hopped down from the wall and landed right back down next to where Stiles continued his relentless pounding. Stiles was even more enthused about the whole thing now that he knew somebody was taking care of Derek’s other half. Somehow—the whole notion of taking Derek’s ass at the same time a complete stranger was taking Derek’s mouth was one orgasmic thought that Stiles didn’t want to let flutter out of his head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sloppy sound of the stranger hellhound fucking his cock into Derek’s throat sent shockwaves straight down to Stiles’ hard cock. His heavy eyelashes fluttered shut as he tried to maintain the best of his rhythm. Stiles tried to visualize everything that was happening on the other side of the wall. And when he focused, Stiles swore that he could see it all—a hulking slab of jock muscle brutalizing Derek’s mouth, making him choke and gag and gurgle and sputter helpless around a searing hot length. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles’ thrusts into Derek’s ass pitched the alpha slightly forward through the hole in the wall to meet the hellhound’s thrusts. It was a mixed-matched kind of rhythm that worked out in the best way possible. Derek was getting his body tossed around like a fucking chew toy by his own beta and a total stranger. And yet, neither Stiles nor Scott ever once picked up on the scent of Derek’s arousal wavering. He loved it—all of it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ten minutes later, Stiles’ wolfish ears perked up to the sound of the hellhound stranger on the other side of the wall unleashing a powerful growl of pleasure, followed immediately by the clunky sound of Derek’s throat working desperately to swallow down audible gulps of hellhound cum. Stiles could hear the hellhound’s cock pulse. He could hear it pump out spurts of cum. He could hear it strike messily against the back of Derek’s throat. And he could hear Derek drink it all down. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Drenched in sweat and barely able to keep himself from toppling over from exhaustion, Stiles felt his body tighten as his own orgasm overtook him. Scott shouted out from the sidelines with enthusiastic remarks. At the same time, Stiles cried out and pumped his hips into Derek’s hole with languid strokes, feeling the meat of his cock throb rapidly and stain white hot into the abused pink of Derek’s tight inner walls. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As Stiles pulled out of Derek’s hole, watching the combined load of both his and Scott’s cum ooze sloppily down the backs of Derek’s thighs, Derek’s entire body suddenly went completely lax. He passed out—overworked from both ends. Stiles caught his breath and stumbled over to where Scott was standing, still looking incredibly pleased with himself. The two of them stood there and traded breathless pants with one another, picking up on the sound of clever footsteps casually retreating from the other side of the wall.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I guess the hellhound isn’t gonna stick around to exchange numbers.” Stiles laughed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Derek got that hellhound’s cum pumped down his throat.” Scott snickered. “He can track that scent later.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think Derek’s still stuck, though.” Stiles said casually, rubbing at the side of his neck. “What should we do about that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Scott shrugged. “I don’t know—can’t think. Too hungry, dude.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine—let’s grab something to eat and we’ll just come back later.” Stiles suggested, motioning for Scott to follow his lead out of the woods. “He’ll probably be up by then.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe some other strange creatures will have some fun with him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles laughed. So did Scott.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks for reading! I hope that you liked it! As always, I appreciate comments, critiques, and suggestions for future fics! Also kudos!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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